The morning of Luna's fifth birthday dawned crisp and clear over Silver Creek territory, sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows of our new family estate. Five years. Had it really been five years since that night in the hospital when our daughter first opened those impossible silver eyes?
I stood in the kitchen, watching Kai wrestle with what appeared to be a three-tier birthday cake that was fighting back. Frosting covered his forearms, and there was a suspicious purple smudge on his left cheek.
"Need help?" I asked, trying not to smile.
"No. Maybe. Yes." He blew a strand of hair out of his eyes. "How is it possible that I can coordinate international supernatural diplomacy but can't make a birthday cake cooperate?"
"Because international diplomacy doesn't involve buttercream that melts if you look at it wrong."
